@hamedns
We never know that we are leaving
when we set out
We close the door as if in jest
Fate follows after us
drops the heavy latch
and we shall meet no more.
Love can do all things except
restore the dead
though perhaps even that
would be within the power
of such a giant,
if only a body could be replaced
But Love is weary and must sleep
it is hungry and must graze
So it abandons its shining fleet,
and slips into some crooked path,
vanishing from sight.
That nothing exists but Love
this is the only thing
we know of Love.
And it is enough.
The cargo of the ship
must match the measure
of its hold.
Poet: Emily Dickinson (USA)
āA brief yet deep reading of Dickinsonās poem , where love is both weary and the only truth that endures.ā
https://paragraph.com/@0x2b07789f279e8e5cd64413417a247f8a782331a6/love-the-last-fleet-of-light
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